


Interruptions

by Redamber79



Series: The Commander & The Altus [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Hand Feeding, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Magic, Nightmares, Post-Game(s), Rough Sex, Switching, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 00:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14508159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redamber79/pseuds/Redamber79
Summary: Cullen and Dorian navigate their new relationship.





	1. Waking

**Author's Note:**

> As always, unbeta'd, and written on my phone.

Dorian woke suddenly, uncertain what had interrupted his sleep. Pale moonlight was permeating the room, and his sleep-fogged mind wondered why he hadn't drawn the curtain over his window. He stretched leisurely and hissed softly as numerous aches let themselves be known. His neck, his arms and his shoulders, his hips, and his…

His eyes snapped open, a low chuckle rolling through him. Thoroughly awake, he ran through the previous night's events with a certain bemusement. The sex had been incredible, but with the declarations they'd made, that meant more than simply rutting. He wasn't certain how to proceed. A relationship? That was new territory, but he wanted to risk it. Of course, he wasn't the only one with an opinion. A soft moan sounded at his back, and Dorian turned with a smile and a sly comment, both of which died on his lips as he saw Cullen was in the throes of a nightmare.

The blond curls were plastered to his forehead and neck, a frown creasing his brow, and he tossed his head back and forth on the pillow. He moaned again, louder this time, and now Dorian could hear the distress in that wordless sound. He reached for his lover quickly, speaking in a low, gentle voice.

“Cullen? You're safe, wake up now.”

Cullen thrashed in his sleep, his fists clenching. “No… demon, leave me! You'll not fool me. Maker, please…”

Dorian's heart broke, listening to his lover plead and fight against ghosts from his past. But he heard the defiance and strength as well as the fear, and knew Cullen would win out. He quickly lit a candle, and seeing Cullen had trapped himself in the blanket, he carefully tugged it free of his limbs, then spread it over his lover gently. He sat against the head of the bed, stroking Cullen's hair, and began to hum an old lullaby his nurse had sung to him as a child. He could scarcely recall the words, and those scraps only in Tevene, but he sang softly all the same.

He watched Cullen carefully, and noticed his breathing evening out as he sang. He smiled gently, and began speaking softly to him, nothing serious, simply the banter and teasing that had laced their conversations for half a year or more. “Come now, my dear Commander, we're at a draw with the cards. Perhaps we've time for a rematch? This lazing about truly isn't like you at all. At this rate the sun will be up before you, and wouldn't that simply scandalise the masses.” Dorian ran a gentle hand down Cullen's cheek, testing the rasp of stubble. “Darling, this simply won't do. Must I conjure up a heated bath for you to coax you to join me, Amatus? Now where did you get those cloths last night...? Speaking of, the sex was positively incredible, and we really ought to do that again soon.” He slid off the bed, rummaging through the low drawers which he thought held cloths. Finding them, he poured the last of the water from the jug over the cloth, shivering at the chill. The barest touch of magic had the cloth nicely warmed, and he squeezed the excess before returning to the bed. He noted the frown on Cullen's brow immediately, and tsked at the sleeping man.

“Another nightmare building? Let's see what we can do about that.” He began singing the lullaby again softly, and carefully wiped the sweat from Cullen's face and neck. Once again, either his voice or his touch was soothing the nightmare away, and he wondered suddenly how often they struck. He already knew Cullen worked well into the night most nights, and was up at dawn. Was there nothing he could delegate, to Captain Rylen perhaps? Or did he hoard his work because he wouldn't be sleeping anyway? Dorian soothed a hand over Cullen's cheek as he shifted and gave a small moan, not realising he'd fallen silent again. Dorian shivered in the pre-dawn chill, and wormed his way back under the blanket, pillowing his head on Cullen's chest.

“What am I to do with you, Amatus?” he murmured, stroking gentle fingers up and down Cullen's chest. He glanced about the room, the birds heralding the approaching dawn, though the sky was still black as pitch. When he looked back up to his lover's face, Cullen's serious gaze was looking down at him. Cullen leaned down and kissed him gently, the barest brush of their lips.

“I haven't slept til dawn in some time; usually the…” he trailed off, his eyes skittering away from Dorian, a crease appearing in his brow. Dorian reached up a gentle hand and rubbed at the crease with his thumb, causing Cullen to look back at him in surprise.

“There, gone. It's far too early to be creasing those handsome features. Now, my darling Commander, I do believe you were going to tell me of your nightmares.” Cullen's eyes went wide, and he glanced away again, ashamed of what he saw as a weakness. Dorian grabbed his jaw and gently pulled him back until they were face to face. “Amatus, after what you told me last night, I would be most concerned if you _didn't_ have nightmares. Those events leave their scars, on the mind as well as the body. And since you stopped taking lyrium some time ago, that would only makes the nightmares worse. Accept the victory of relatively undisturbed sleep.”

“Relatively, yes. I kept hearing you speaking to me. You were talking about cards, and sex, and my dreams couldn't make your voice work with my memories of the tower... and there was something else… a tune…” He thought a moment, then started humming softly. Dorian stared at him in amazement, and felt his cheeks flush.

“How … how could you possibly remember it? _I_  scarcely recall it,” Dorian asked, shaking his head. Cullen grinned almost boyishly down at him.

“You hum it when you're thinking of your next move when we play chess,” Cullen teased, his grin widening as Dorian's cheeks visibly darkened, and he glanced away from Cullen in embarrassment. Cullen’s grin turned mischievous, and he flipped them suddenly, drawing a surprised yelp from his lover, who suddenly found himself pinned. Cullen leaned down and brushed Dorian's lips with his own, feather-light and questioning. Dorian pouted for a moment, but Cullen nibbled on his lower lip, teasing and trailing his tongue lightly over it until Dorian moaned softly and opened for him.

The kiss started slow and gentle, languid. Cullen slowly caressed down Dorian's side, drawing a shiver from him. Dorian's arms wrapped around his waist, his hands trailing up his back, making tiny circles as he went. Cullen broke off their kiss and hissed softly at the sting as Dorian's fingers brushed over the scratches he'd made the previous night. Dorian froze a moment, then squirmed out from under his lover. When Cullen would have sat up with him, Dorian shoved gently on his shoulder, and Cullen settled down on the bed, pillowing his head on his arms. Dorian casually straddled his thighs, and tossed a mage light into the air. He stared down at his handiwork, and cursed.

“Kaffas! Some of these need healing, Amatus, and that is unfortunately not where my strengths lie. Have you a healing tonic for your headaches? They don't discriminate.” Assuming Cullen would keep a tonic close at hand, he leaned over to rummage through the drawer of the small table next to the bed. Pulling out a small jar of elfroot salve, he continued his search, over Cullen’s protests.

“Dorian, the salve will do, there's no need to waste a tonic,” Cullen chided, laughing softly as he tugged on his lover. Dorian poked around in the drawer for another moment, chuckling as he pulled out another item. He waved it at Cullen, and though Cullen's cheeks flushed, he kept a steady gaze and gave a wry smile.

“My darling Commander, not what I expected to find among your effects,” he teased, examining the solid, glass phallus. “Orlesian, then?”

Cullen shrugged, a mischievous quirk to his scarred lips. “I would assume so, as it was a gift I received after that blasted mess at the Winter Palace. And while I refused the offer that came along with the gift, well… Why would I allow such a fine piece of craftsmanship go to waste?” Cullen roved his eyes over Dorian, and noticing his cock swelling with interest, his eyes darkening in response. “Dorian, what did you have in mind?”

Dorian scooped up the salve, and again straddled Cullen's thighs. He leaned forward to lay a gentle kiss on the worst of the scratches, and Cullen gasped quietly. He dabbed the salve lightly over the scratches, hesitating as Cullen’s breath caught.

“Amatus, are you alright?” he asked, leaning closer, trying to ignore the friction of his cock against Cullen's ass as he peered down at his face. Cullen's eyes closed at the firm contact, his head tilting back on a low moan, and he ground his hips back against Dorian. Dorian's salve-covered fingers clenched on Cullen's hip, and he gave an involuntary thrust along the crease of Cullen's ass, pulling a wanton moan from his own throat. “Amatus...” he breathed softly, laying gentle kisses down Cullen's spine, careful of the scratches. Cullen shivered underneath him, then pressed up on all fours, forcing Dorian back. As soon as he had room, he flipped onto his back, and pulled Dorian down for a breathless kiss. Cullen plundered his mouth, his hands tangled in his dark hair.

Dorian met the kiss passionately, nipping at his lips, exploring the scar anew. Cullen rocked his body up to meet his, hooking an ankle around Dorian’s knee to drag his body closer. When Cullen broke off the kiss, both men were panting. “Dorian,” Cullen murmured, peppering the mage's face and throat with kisses. He scraped his cheek across Dorian's neck, just to hear his whine at the rasp of stubble. “Dorian, love… I want you…” Dorian pulled back with a smirk, a teasing reply on his lips when Cullen continued. “I want you to fuck me.” Dorian’s eyes widened, the growing light showing the startlement on his face. “I… that is… if… if you want to…” Cullen stammered.

Dorian’s expression sharpened, and he reached down to grab Cullen's leg wrapped around his thigh, pulling it up about his waist, forcing him to tilt his hips upward. He fumbled around for the oil they'd used the night before, muttering a curse as he searched in vain. Cullen smirked at him, and waved the small jar of salve at him.

“Are you certain of that, Amatus?” Dorian asked, his voice low and husky.

Cullen shrugged and handed it over. “What do you think I use with that,” he asked, jerking his chin towards the glass phallus, “if I've no oil at hand?”

Dorian groaned at the image this conjured in his mind's eye, and his hands shook as he unstoppered the jar. He bent and kissed Cullen thoroughly, thrusting his tongue into the other's mouth as he drove his hips forward. Cullen moaned against his lips, and grabbed his ass to pull him closer. Dorian dipped his fingers into the salve, and then wrapped his hand around their shafts, stroking them together as they rutted against each other. Cullen's broader palm encircled his, and they fell into a surging rhythm.

“Beloved…” Cullen gasped, his eyes falling shut as he swallowed hoarsely. “Dorian, I won't last like this…”

“Good,” came Dorian’s teasing reply, as he flicked his thumb over Cullen's slit. “I want to watch your face as I push you over the edge.” Cullen buried his face against Dorian's neck, shaking as his neared his peak. “And once I've milked you, I'll open you up on my fingers, and then…”

Whatever it was he planned to do next would remain a mystery, for there was a sudden scrabbling on the roof, then the raucous caw of Leliana's favourite messenger, Milène, came sounding through the hole in the roof. The bird swiftly followed, hopping awkwardly down to stare at the men with a far too intelligent eye.

“Oh, _Maker's balls!_ ” Cullen cursed, his cock throbbing painfully, but his release now well out of reach. He gave Dorian a quick kiss of apology, then slid out of bed, and strode towards the damnable bird, muttering the while. “Andraste's flaming tits! This had better be important, or I swear…” He slowed as he reached the bird, having no wish to be pecked by that wicked beak. He held out his hand carefully, allowing the bird to inspect him and come to him. She cawed something suspiciously close to a laugh, then hopped closer, and held out her leg. Cullen untied the scrap of paper, uncurling it as he absently scratched the corvid's head. He tilted the slip of paper this way and that in the faint dawn light, until Dorian tossed a mage light into the air near his shoulder. Cullen flashed him a grin before turning back to the message, and Dorian felt his heart lurch at that joyous smile. Cullen's fist crumpled the slip suddenly, and Dorian stood. He eyed his lover, noting the tensed shoulders, the flared nostrils and scowl, and the flush that was spreading across his cheekbones to his ears, as well as down his neck to his chest.

“Cullen?” Dorian called softly. Cullen's eyes flashed to him, and gave him a rueful smile as he rubbed at his neck. Dorian grinned in return, knowing that the flush was embarrassment, rather than anger. “Come, my darling Commander--”

“I was about to,” Cullen interrupted with a scowl, but his eyes twinkled as Dorian continued.

“As I was saying, Amatus, whatever our darling spymaster sent has quite killed the mood, but is there great urgency, or shall we find a meal to break our fast?” He raised an eyebrow, completely unabashed in his nakedness. Cullen tossed the raven into the air, and she squawked in protest before flapping up to the shelf Cullen had installed just below the hole in the roof, then hopped up and out of sight. He turned back to his lover, and in the brightness of Dorian's mage light, eyed him up and down. He nearly salivated at the disheveled state of Dorian's hair, the sleepy eyes watching him with amusement, the lean strength of his body. He saw the marks from his mouth on Dorian's throat and shoulder, and felt a possessive pride slide through him. When his eyes swept lower however, they widened in dismay. Showing clearly on Dorian's olive skin, bruises at his hips from Cullen's fingers. He moved closer, and ran his thumb gently over the purpling marks. His eyes flew to Dorian's, and Dorian immediately stepped closer, and cupped Cullen's jaw in his hands.

“Whatever it is you're thinking, Amatus, stop it at once. Shall I fetch a mirror that you might see the state your back is in?” A flicker of humour came and went in Cullen's eyes, the guilt still foremost as he opened his mouth to respond. Dorian ran over the top of him, not letting him get in a word. “Amatus, you did nothing I didn't want, and very little I didn't explicitly demand. You see these marks as a sign that you hurt me. I see them as a sign you worshipped me with your body. If you require forgiveness for that, I will certainly grant it,” Dorian sassed, finally drawing a small smile from Cullen. Cullen drew a deep, steadying breath, and leaned down to kiss Dorian gently, as though to show that too was in his nature. He moved his lips along Dorian's jaw to his ear, then down his throat, causing the mage to hum softly in pleasure.

“Worship, did you say?” Cullen breathed softly in Dorian's ear, then sank to one knee before his lover, as though in prayer. Or, Dorian supposed, like a Templar at a vigil. His hands gently touched the bruises he'd left, and one by one, he kissed each mark tenderly. Dorian stared down at his lover; such an intimate position, but with such a reverent demeanour. Cullen glanced up at him, his eyes full of affection, which quickly turned to concern. He rose as smoothly as he'd knelt, and gently wiped his fingers over Dorian's cheeks. “Dorian, love, what is it?”

Dorian shook his head, and tilted his head up to capture Cullen’s lips. “Nothing, Amatus. It simply occurred to me that someone might see me so very disheveled, and the shame of it—”

Cullen silenced him with a kiss. “I like you this disheveled,” he commented softly, running his hands through the sable locks. He bent for another kiss, nibbling on Dorian's lips until he opened them with a contented sigh, then slanting his mouth over the mage's in a deep, passionate kiss. Breathing heavily as he drew back, he noted the swollen, reddened lips with satisfaction, the hunger in Dorian's gaze matching his own. “But you've a point. Not about shame, you peacock, but I'd much rather be the only one to see you quite like this.” And he fisted a hand in Dorian's hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat, and proceeded to nibble and suck his way from the earlobe down to his pulse. Dorian's arms slid around his waist, and he melded their bodies together. Both had gone flaccid with the interruption, but now, with Cullen's strength holding him immobile, his mouth, _Kaffas, his teeth,_ marking Dorian anew, he could feel his cock swelling again. Cullen could feel it as well, and groaned against his shoulder, his own cock rising, the ring glinting. Dorian let the magelight vanish, the early morning sun lighting the sky, though not quite falling through the hole in the ceiling so far.

Dorian wrapped his arms tightly about Cullen's waist, and bracing himself, lifted the startled Commander off his feet. He grinned up at his lover, and took a step backwards, his calf hitting the edge of the bed. Then he simply fell onto it, pulling Cullen with him, who caught himself on his forearms before crushing Dorian. Cullen looked down at him in amusement, more than a little aroused by his lover's strength. It had been some time since he'd had a lover who could move him about.

“Before we get too caught up, Amatus. The note from Leliana? Do we need to pick this up later?” Dorian asked, his eyes serious even as his fingers teased over Cullen's chest. Cullen groaned, and dropped his weight onto him, burying his face in the bed beside Dorian’s head. “Ah, simply stirring the pot?”

“She thanked me for winning her that blasted wager, though I truly do _not_ wish to know how she knew I kissed you first. She also mentioned that as there was a strange phenomena last night, of some candles and torches flaring oddly in the keep, it might be best if any mage with an affinity for fire be watched for the morning. And if I could perhaps ask our resident fire expert for advice on how often it might occur, if the cause could be isolated.”

Dorian chortled, shaking his head as he soothed his lover with a gentle massage on his neck. Cullen groaned as he melted against him. “I've found your weakness, my darling Commander. Now, however did she fit all that on that tiny scrap?”

“Shorthand,” Cullen mumbled. “I was translating into Leliana-talk.” He nuzzled into Dorian's neck, nearly purring with contentment, like a great golden cat. Dorian felt the smile against his neck, half a moment before Cullen ran his tongue up the side of his neck to his ear. Dorian tried to squirm away, shrieking his disgust, but Cullen pinned him neatly, one hand capturing both wrists above their heads, and grinned down at him playfully. Dorian gave him a haughty stare, an impressive feat with his kohl smeared, his hair disheveled, and his cock pressing into Cullen's thigh. Cullen reached down a gentle hand and brushed Dorian's hair back, stroking down his neck to his chest. Dorian's eyes heated, but he kept his expression disdainful.

Cullen's smile softened, and he bent slowly to his lover, dropping gentle kisses across his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his chin. He laid a feather-light kiss at the corner of Dorian’s mouth, and felt his lips twitch in response. Cullen continued to kiss Dorian gently, trailing his fingertips over his torso, petting and soothing. Dorian raised an imperious eyebrow, and Cullen simply smirked in response.

“Something you wanted, beloved?” Cullen asked, nuzzling at Dorian's earlobe, taking it gently between his teeth. Dorian's breath caught, and he tilted his head to give Cullen better access to his neck. He twisted his wrists, testing Cullen’s grip on him, and Cullen gave him a devilish grin that set his heart pounding. “Did you want me to stop then, love?”

Dorian turned and nipped at his neck sharply, drawing a gasp from Cullen. “Kaffas! If I wanted you to stop I would say so. Or simply get loose.”

“Would you now?” Cullen challenged, nibbling his way down Dorian’s neck, sliding down to kiss his collarbone and the marks left the night before. The movement slid his cock against Dorian's thigh, and dragged against the mage's cock as well. Both moaned softly, and Cullen shifted his weight to press their cocks together.

Or, he meant to. As he started to move, Dorian twisted his wrists swiftly, breaking free of the Commander's grip. One hand swept down and grasped Cullen's cock, giving it one solid stroke from the tip down to the root. Cullen's head snapped back on a groan, and Dorian chuckled in satisfaction.

“Indeed. I would,” Dorian smirked, giving his cock a squeeze. Cullen moved to capture Dorian's lips with his own, when his stomach growled, loudly. Cullen went scarlet with embarrassment as Dorian laughed, wrapping his arms around Cullen's waist and pulling him close. “I know when I'm beaten. Shall we find something to break our fast? So important to keep our energy up, one never knows what strenuous activity might be around the corner… this evening perhaps?” he crooned into Cullen's ear, sliding a finger down the cleft of his ass, before squeezing firmly. Cullen moaned against his neck, hips bucking.

“That is _not_  convincing me to let you out of my bed, love,” he murmured, kissing his way along Dorian's neck and jaw, before capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Dorian tangled his fingers in Cullen's curls, eagerly returning the kiss. However when Cullen's stomach growled again, he couldn't contain an undignified snort of laughter. Cullen looked down at him with a rueful smile, his cheeks pink. “Alright, fine. Let's get something to eat.” Cullen rolled off Dorian, and lay next to him for a moment, looking over at his lover. Dorian pushed his hair back from his face, raising a curious eyebrow, and Cullen flushed and dropped his gaze a moment. “Dorian, you've had to hide your whole life,” he hesitated, taking a deep breath. “I was… that is… if you would rather keep this between us, outside of our rooms, I would understand.. Maker's breath, what is so funny?”

Dorian was clutching at his ribs, convulsed in laughter. He laughed until tears trickled down his cheeks, further smearing the remnants of kohl around his eyes. He tried to calm himself, but every time he looked at Cullen again, he lost his composure. Cullen looked surprised, then embarrassed, flushing red and rolling onto his stomach to bury his face in his pillow. Dorian finally got himself under control, and rolled over to his lover's side, throwing one leg over his thighs, and nuzzling at the back of his neck.

“Amatus, you are positively delightful, do you know that? I sincerely doubt anyone currently in the keep is unaware of our activities last night, between that unfortunate scout, the ladies placing bets, and to be frank, you weren't exactly subtle in your enthusiasm.”

Cullen flipped quickly, pulling Dorian above him and looking indignant. “Me? As though you were silent on the matter, beloved!” he demanded, trailing his fingers up Dorian's sides lightly. Dorian squirmed slightly, and Cullen gave him a wicked grin. “Dorian, my dear one,” he practically purred. “Are you ticklish?”

No sooner had he asked than he was putting it to a practical test, and a triumphant grin spread as Dorian shrieked and writhed, trying to escape the fingers attacking his ribs mercilessly. “Fasta vass! Cullen, I will set fire to your coat, I swear it! Stop this at once!”

“Liar,” Cullen laughed. He sat up and wrapped his arms around Dorian, kissing his way across his chest, flicking a pierced nipple with his tongue. “If you did, I wouldn't be able to wear it while I ride your cock.” Dorian cried out at the touch, clutching Cullen to him. He stared down, blue-grey eyes dark with lust.

“Amatus, don't start something you aren't prepared to finish,” he cautioned, his voice low and husky.

“Leliana's note said barring emergency, I have until after the midday meal, then duties as usual will commence. Cassandra and Rylen can manage any other decisions in the meantime.” Cullen pulled his lover close, teasing his fingers up and down Dorian's spine. “My thought is this. I fetch a meal or two from the kitchens directly, and you make good on that earlier request I made.” And he held up the small bottle of oil that Dorian couldn't locate earlier.

Dorian groaned as his cock leapt to throbbing, aching attention, and he fisted his hands in Cullen's hair, dragging his face up for a desperate kiss. “Amatus… _Cullen_ …” he breathed softly, “you need to go, now. And don't take long, or I'll start without you.” And Dorian nudged the glass phallus against Cullen's cleft, while rocking his hips forward. Cullen positively growled, and flipped them to bear Dorian down to the mattress, rutting their hips together. He claimed Dorian’s mouth in a possessive kiss, sucking his tongue into his mouth and nipping at his lip as he drew back. He moved away slowly, sliding down Dorian's body to the foot of the bed. He bent and laid a kiss on the inside of Dorian's knee, looking up at his lover with hooded eyes.

He stood and moved on quiet feet to the wardrobe, pulling trousers and a linen shirt. He pulled both on swiftly, no wasted motion. Taking a deep breath, he palmed himself, squeezing tightly at the base of his cock, before tucking himself away and lacing his leathers tight. Dorian watched the proceedings with a hungry eye, letting out a moan at seeing his lover touch himself. Cullen shot him a molten glance, his gold-bronze eyes filled with heat. His nostrils flared as his gaze slid over Dorian, sprawled naked on his bed, his own hand trailing down his chest to his cock. Cullen groaned, and took a step towards the bed with his shirt still in his hands. He stopped, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, his shirt balled in his fists. He turned away from the bed, and pulled his shirt over his head, leaving the tails untucked to hide his arousal. He scooped up the empty water pitcher, and collected his coat from the floor next to the bed. He bent and kissed Dorian slowly, languorously, then slid down the ladder.

Glancing about his office, he shook his head at the mess. Their cards and drinks from the night before still on the low table by the fireplace, his armour on a third chair. A shattered bottle of Antivan brandy made walking near his desk treacherous, and papers were strewn everywhere. He found his shirt and Dorian's in a heap near his chair. He looked about for his boots, then realised they were above.

“Shit… Dorian, love, toss down my boots please?” he called up, only to see Dorian's booted feet appear and step onto the ladder. He'd dressed in his leather pants, and Cullen had the pleasure of watching his ass as he climbed down, Cullen's boots in hand. He dropped past the last two rungs, and presented the boots with a courtly bow, somewhat hampered by his shirtless state. Cullen eyed him from head to toe and back again, his golden gaze heavy with lust. The rings piercing Dorian's nipples glinted in the light, Cullen's marks clearly visible at throat, shoulders, and hips. The pants were laced only halfway then knotted lazily, and Cullen fought the urge to slip the knot loose with his teeth. Dorian leaned casually against the ladder, running a hand through his dark hair, an eyebrow raised in amusement. Cullen stomped his feet into his boots, then wrapped an arm around his lover's waist to pull him close. He met Dorian's lips with his own for a tender kiss, nuzzling against him.

“I'll be back in ten minutes, love,” Cullen murmured softly. Dorian smirked up at him, the bare inch difference in height only noticeable when they stood this close.

“You've got eight, then I'm going to start without you, Amatus,” he challenged, rolling his hips forward. Cullen growled softly and kissed him once more, hard, then made for the southern rampart door. He unlocked it swiftly, and wrenched the door open, much to the startlement of the two soldiers patrolling the battlements.

Who knew what they made of the Commander's disheveled state, his blond hair a mass of riotous curls, without his armour, and a clear bite mark on his neck. Their eyes flicked from his face, set in a fierce glare that dared commentary, back out over the ramparts. The older woman gave a curt, “Commander,” without looking at him again. The young man simply stared over the ramparts, a flush climbing his neck as he tried to wrap his befuddled mind around the idea that the Commander of the Inquisition had appetites. Cullen shook his head as he took the stairs to the lower bailey, then crossed the courtyard to the stairs to the kitchen. He took those stairs two and three at a time, then paused so as not to startle the head cook or her charges. He opened the door, giving a perfunctory greeting, then set about collecting a basket and a meal. They were well used to his habits in the kitchen, and simply nodded or gave a low “Morning, Commander.”

He moved about the kitchen with ease, collecting a load of bread, a small pot of jam, another of a chocolate spread, several pieces of fruit, a large chunk of cheese, and a bottle of small cider. He paused then, looking about.

“Pardon me, have you any of those delightful pastries left from yesterday?” Cullen asked courteously. One of the helpers glanced up to answer, but her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed as she looked at him.

The grey-haired cook called over her shoulder, “Girl! Answer the Commander!” When only silence met her command, she turned to scold her young helpers, then paused, eyeing the Commander. She shook her head at the folly of youth, noting the red and swollen lips, the love bites on his neck. Rolling her eyes, she moved about the kitchen, fetching several pastries. “Your sweetheart has a sweet tooth, does she?” she chuckled, ignoring the disappointed sighs of her mooning help.

Cullen’s lips quirked in a wry smile, and he gave a short bow to the cook as he added the pastries to the basket. He met the cook's eyes and winked. “Indeed, he does.” She blinked for a moment and guffawed, clapping him in the shoulder.

“Out of my kitchen! You've caused enough ruckus for this morning,” she ordered. Cullen saluted the elderly woman smartly, and strode from the building. As the door fell closed behind him, he could hear the cook chivvying her charges back to work.

He descended the stairs quickly, and stopped at the well to refill the water jug. He could hear the buzz of gossip surrounding him, but ignored it. He knew his appearance this morning would stir up chatter, but couldn't bring himself to care.

He ascended the stairs swiftly, uncertain whether to hope Dorian had waited or begun without him. A sudden image struck him of Dorian sprawled on Cullen’s desk, legs spread wide as he fucked himself with the glass toy, and Cullen nearly missed a step, flushing darkly as his cock twitched with interest. His fantasies had been a mild distraction for months, but now that he'd tasted the reality, it was far worse. He reached his door without further incident, nodding briefly to the soldier who could make eye contact, flicking a wry smile at the young man who still couldn't. He caught the grin on the woman's face from the corner of his eye, and knew the younger recruit was in for some ribbing.

He hit the latch with his elbow, shoving the door open, and dropped the basket in shock. Dorian had taken it upon himself to tidy up, and was currently on all fours, mopping up the spilled brandy. Cullen had no doubt his lover had deliberately placed himself with his perfect ass pointed at the only unlocked door, and he swayed hypnotically as he cleaned. Cullen let out a low groan, and Dorian peered back over his shoulder. He smirked as he straightened to his knees, twisting this way and that until his spine popped.

Cullen kicked the door shut and locked it again, and strode forward to pull the mage against his body with one arm. He set the water pitcher on the desk almost absently, then bent to capture Dorian's lips with his own. His tongue traced over the seam of his lips, softly begging admittance. Dorian’s lips curved in a smile, and he opened for his lover. Cullen swept his tongue into Dorian's mouth, pulling a moan from him. The kiss stretched on for several minutes, leaving them both panting. They pulled apart reluctantly, and Cullen rested his forehead against Dorian's, noticing he'd removed the remnants of kohl from his eyes.  It made him look younger, somehow. 

“When you said you were going to start without me, that wasn't quite what I had imagined. I do appreciate the help, however,” he said softly, nuzzling and kissing gently down Dorian's jaw. He could feel the stubble under his lips, and moaned softly at the sensation. Dorian's hands flexed on his biceps at the sound, and he tilted his head to give Cullen better access to his neck. He felt Cullen's lips curve in a smile, then gasped as that hot mouth left a wet, scorching trail down his throat, tongue flicking lightly at the hollow of his throat, all the while his hands kneading at Dorian's lower back.

“ _Ahhh!_ And is this how you show your appreciation, Amatus?” he breathed, sliding a hand to cup Cullen's neck, holding the blond man close. He lightly teased his nails up the nape of Cullen's neck, teasing through the unruly curls reaching almost to his shoulders. Cullen kissed his way across Dorian's collarbone, humming his approval as Dorian scraped his nails lightly over his scalp. The vibration against his skin sent a shiver through Dorian, and he moaned softly, his hips twitching against Cullen’s restlessly. Cullen groaned at the thrust, and spun the mage to pin him against the ladder to the loft. He ground their hips together, the simmering heat between them exploding as they met in another passionate kiss. They fought for dominance of the kiss, until Cullen growled, and grasping Dorian’s jaw, moved him where he wanted as he deepened the kiss. Dorian melted against him, tangling his fingers in the sweat damp curls, and grinding their cocks together. Cullen broke free from the kiss, lips red, and wet, and swollen. He dropped his head to Dorian's shoulder, breathing deeply as he tried to steady himself.

Dorian wasn't in the mood to let him, and slid clever fingers under the hem of Cullen shirt, and started tugging on the laces of his pants. Cullen reached down and took his hands, stilling the movements that were quickly driving him mad. “Dorian, I need you up that ladder and in my bed. I need to touch you.” Dorian shuddered at the warm breath against his throat, and Cullen's voice was low and husky with desire. “I need to feel you, beloved,” Cullen murmured softly, nuzzling at Dorian's ear, flicking his tongue to tease at his earlobe. One hand slid slowly from Dorian's hip, trailing lightly through the soft, dark hair on his chest, before toying gently with one of the rings piercing his nipples. Dorian moaned at the contact, his hips moving restlessly as he sought more friction. Cullen wedged a thigh between Dorian's, and the mage cried out, grinding against him.

“If you want this to last, Amatus, I recommend letting me go…” Dorian said rather breathlessly. “That is, if your earlier request still stands.” He slid a hand to Cullen’s hip, then around to the curve of his ass, squeezing and kneading, teasing at the cleft.

“Maker's breath, yes!” Cullen exclaimed, a bolt of lust firing up his spine.

“In that case, fetch the water, I'll take the basket.” Dorian slid out of Cullen's arms, and stooped to collect the basket of food. Cullen waited a moment, eyeing his lover's perfect ass in the beautifully tight leathers, then turned to take a steadying breath and collect the water jug from his desk. A moment later he jumped as his own ass was pinched. He spun around, sloshing water over the rim, and gave his lover a dirty look.

“Was that entirely necessary, Dorian?”

Dorian smirked, and ran a gentle fingertip down Cullen's jaw. “Considering what you've asked me to do, now you quibble over a pinch?” he asked, in an arch tone of voice.

“Considering how many times I was pinched at that Void-damned Winter Palace, I'm not overly fond of them,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his neck.

“Ah yes, you were quite popular that evening, weren't you?” Dorian hesitated, twisting the end of his mustache. “I might have been one of them… I shouldn't have taken advantage, but you did look so very fetching in that uniform.”

Cullen simply looked at him. “And were you pinched at all that evening?”

Dorian shrugged a careless shoulder, and smirked as Cullen's gaze traveled slowly over his bare chest. “Once or twice.”

“Mmmm… and was one of those times after our dear Adaar stirred the celebration up by dancing with that conniving Duchess Florianne?”

“Well, yes, but how did you…” he broke off, seeing the Commander's smirk. “You…” Dorian threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, you are glorious, Amatus.”

Cullen grinned, stepping close with a swagger, and cupped Dorian's chin, gently tilting his face up for a kiss. Dorian smiled against his lips, then leaned back. He toyed with the ties on Cullen's shirt, and pulled him towards the ladder.

“Shall we?”


	2. Fire mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Dorian make it up the ladder to Cullen's bed, and discover a side effect of their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit rating right here. Smutty smut smut.
> 
> Typed on my phone, not beta'd, etc.

They fell onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs, nearly frantic in their caresses. Cullen's shirt had a torn seam from the violence with which he removed it, and his boots had been thrown who knew where. He reached for Dorian's laces, and managed to tangle them in his urgency. Dorian chuckled softly, and demonstrated that with enough wiggling, he could still remove the pants, despite being knotted halfway. He also showed he hadn't bothered with smalls, and Cullen groaned at the sight. Dorian reached for his laces then, and Cullen laid back on the bed, trying not to think about those clever fingers so close to his cock. Their eyes met and Dorian gave him such a heated, knowing look, that Cullen groaned, and stared at the hole in his ceiling. Each tug of the laces brought exquisite pressure on his shaft, and he closed his eyes with a sigh of relief as his cock sprang free.

Dorian glanced up at his lover, and smirked. Then without a word he took Cullen's cock down to the root, his throat working to accommodate his size. Cullen’s hips jerked off the bed with a shocked cry, his hands scrabbling for purchase in Dorian's hair. Dorian was a fluid heat over him, drawing back for a breath and then sinking down again. Their eyes locked, and Cullen saw the twinkle in his lover's gaze, then Dorian was pressing his thumb firmly against the delicate skin behind his sac, and _swallowing_ around his cock. Cullen sat partway up, a groan pulled from his gut as he watched Dorian.

“ _Maker_ , Dorian, I won't last if you keep doing that,” he warned.

Dorian slid off with a wet _pop!_ and wrapped a hand around Cullen's shaft, stroking almost lazily. “And who said you need to last, Amatus?” he asked softly, his voice somewhat hoarse, lips slick and trailing spittle to Cullen's shaft.

Then he was wrapping his lips around the tip of Cullen's cock, and tonguing at the slit and the ring piercing it. Cullen's hips bucked upward again, and Dorian simply opened his throat and let him in. Cullen fell back on the pillows, his hands grasping at the headboard for purchase. Dorian pressed against that spot again, and Cullen quaked, his cock dripping.

“Dorian, love, please… oh, _fuck!_ ” he gasped, as Dorian pressed an oil slicked digit into him. Dorian drew back both his finger and his mouth, and Cullen whimpered at the loss. Dorian teased at his entrance, rubbing the tight pucker in slow circles, then pressed in again. His other hand stroked his cock slowly, then Dorian was running his tongue up his shaft, curling it at the tip to toy with the piercing. Dorian lipped at the ring, tonguing at the slit. Meanwhile, he slid his finger out, and pushed back with two. Cullen whined at the back of his throat, and used the headboard for leverage to push against Dorian's hand, sinking the questing fingers deeper.

Dorian slowly stretched Cullen open, his hole slick with oil as Dorian wriggled lower. He shoved Cullen’s pants down about his ankles, then trapped them beneath his body, effectively pinning Cullen's legs. He leaned in and laid a kiss lightly against the crook where the leg and hip met, grazing lightly with his teeth as his fingers continued their slide. He kissed and nibbled his way along the muscular thigh, then darted forward to lap at Cullen's sac, pulling a sharp gasp from his lover, and an aborted attempt to buck his hips. Dorian chuckled darkly, and ran his tongue the length of Cullen's shaft, moaning softly as he lapped at the precome leaking from the tip. He touched a third finger to Cullen's entrance, and watched a full-body shudder roll through him.

“Yes?” he queried softly.

Cullen had one arm thrown over his eyes, the bicep bulging, his other hand fisted in the sheet. Dorian had scarcely heard the breathy _“Maker, yes…”_  before he was edging his fingertip in beside the others, and Cullen gave a low, throaty groan, his cock giving a twitch and dripping again. Dorian gave slow, shallow thrusts with his fingers, spreading them carefully, dropping feather-light kisses along Cullen's thigh. When his fingers were sliding easily, he crooked one up, and Cullen’s hips flew off the bed with a cry. His cock pulsed, spurting a few clear drops onto his stomach.

“Dorian, please!” Cullen cried in a husky voice.

“Was there something you wanted, Amatus?” Dorian teased, flexing his fingers again to make him writhe.

Cullen looked down at him with a hard look that likely sent his recruits scrambling, but Dorian reaction was rather more… primal, and he fought the urge to grind his aching cock against the mattress.

“Altus Pavus,” the Commander growled, sending another bolt of lust down Dorian's spine. “If you do that again, you'll find yourself face down with my cock splitting you open. I suggest you get your cock in _me_ first.”

Dorian was tempted. The raw power in his lover's body held the potential for so much, and he wanted desperately to know what Cullen would be like if he truly let go. He shivered at the thought, but pulled his fingers slowly from his lover's warmth. When he spoke, his tone was teasing, but still breathy, betraying his desire.

“My darling Commander, let's save that for another time, shall we?” And he squeezed Cullen's thigh slightly, meeting his eyes with a darkened gaze.

Cullen's breathing hitched, and his head dropped back on the pillows, a muttered _“Maker's breath”_ escaped his lips. Dorian smirked, and blew gently across Cullen's hole, watching it clench as he cursed Dorian. Dorian smirked slightly, gaining his equilibrium as Cullen seemed to lose his. He deliberately splayed his knees out underneath Cullen's thighs, and hooked his feet over Cullen's leathers, pinning him tightly, spread open.

Dorian looked over his lover, the mass of unruly curls spread across the pillow, the shoulders and arms bunching as he gripped the headboard, the way his eyes had darkened to black rimmed with copper. Cullen bit his lower lip lightly, then ran his tongue over his lips. “Dorian?” he called softly. Dorian shook his head slightly, flashing a grin at his lover, who wasn't fooled in the slightest. “What is it, love?”

Dorian shook his head again, and murmured “Later.” Without another word, he pressed into Cullen's entrance, hissing softly as the head of his cock popped past the tight ring of muscle. Dorian froze, eyes shut, a liquid stream of Tevene pouring from his lips far too quickly for Cullen to catch more than one word in five, though he heard Amatus more than once. For himself, his cock throbbed so sharply at the intrusion that he immediately wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, squeezing his shaft just so to keep himself from spilling over. His knuckles brushed lightly against Dorian's stomach, grazing the trail of dark hair leading south, and Dorian groaned at the contact. Cullen gave a deep, throaty chuckle, and reached further to stroke his knuckles down to where they were joined, and circled Dorian's shaft with thumb and forefinger. Dorian moaned at his touch, and his blue-grey eyes flew open to meet Cullen's.

They shared a heated look, then Dorian glanced down, and his lips curved mischievously. He bent down, curving his spine further than Cullen thought possible, and stretching his neck, was just able to flick his tongue over the tip of Cullen's cock. Cullen groaned, and his body clenched around Dorian’s cock. _“Kaffas!”_ came Dorian's exclamation, but before Cullen could gloat, his lover thrust sharply, and they both cried out.

After that, everything became a bit of a haze, the hot, tight slide, Dorian's hands clutching at Cullen's hips as he drove into him, the headboard creaking under Cullen's hands as he used the leverage to thrust back onto Dorian's cock. Dorian pulled Cullen's hips upward, changing the angle, and thrust again, and Cullen's vision went white, his orgasm rocking through him, bowing his spine off the bed with a shattered moan of pleasure. The clench of his body around Dorian's cock nearly dragged him over, but he slowed his hips, and withdrew until just the tip remained inside his lover.

He waited until Cullen blinked back to awareness, and looked down at him. Cullen opened his mouth to speak, and Dorian drove back into him, harder than before. Cullen kicked at the pants restraining him desperately, and Dorian shifted to give him room to get free. Next thing Cullen's powerful legs were wrapped around Dorian's waist, his ankles crossed as he drove himself down against his lover. He reached up to Dorian's face, in a gentle caress at odds with their nearly violent passion, but Dorian leaned into the touch, his eyes falling shut, even as he moved faster.

Cullen's hand slid up to Dorian's hair, and suddenly the mage was pulled down for a searing kiss, his mouth invaded, plundered by the golden man beneath him. He moaned against Cullen's lips, fisting his hands in his curls, driving into him again and again. His rhythm began to stutter, and Cullen did three things at once. He bit Dorian's lip, tugged on a pierced nipple, and deliberately clenched around the mage's cock.

Dorian exploded. He shouted Cullen's name in ecstasy, emptying himself deep inside his lover, and he wrenched a hand free to thrust towards the hole in the roof, a spinning ball of fire flying towards the sky. Shouts came from the ramparts, and Dorian collapsed onto Cullen's chest with a muttered _“Kaffas…”_

Cullen couldn't help it, he started to laugh. Mailed fists began pounding on his doors below, and he lay there, howling with laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks. Dorian glared at him, his hair falling down over his eyes, and muttered under his breath as he pulled his softening cock out.

“Yes, yes, quite entertaining, I'm sure. Will you be letting your soldiers know that the evil Vint hasn't scorched their Commander? I highly doubt they would take my word for it. Soon enough we'll have Cassandra breaking down the door.”

Cullen continued to laugh, but took a breath to calm himself. “No, she'll get Varric to pick the lock. Although...” He sat up, wrapping his arms around Dorian and pulling him into his lap, nuzzling his neck. Pressed together tightly, Cullen sent out a silent, focused call. Cole appeared out of thin air, and Dorian jumped.

“Fasta vass! Damn it all Cullen, warn me next time!” Dorian scolded, aware they were under intense scrutiny. And his prediction was correct, he realised, as his ears picked up Cassandra's voice in the cacophony outside.

“Cole, please tell Cassandra we're fine, they can stop hammering on my door.”

Cole cocked his head as though listening to something more than Cullen's words. “Hot breath, skin, the fire within. Warmth, wanting, waiting. _Is this mine, can I be so lucky? Amatus_ , almost said a hundred times, teasing, taunting, tempting… truth.” He focused on them suddenly, his gaze as sharp as one of his daggers. “I'll tell,” he said softly, then disappeared.

“That's one step,” Cullen commented. He gently lifted Dorian off his lap and set him on the bed, then stood, his legs only shaking slightly. He made his way towards the corner below the hole in his ceiling, and cupping his hands around his mouth, let out a parade ground bellow. “ _STAND DOWN!_ ”

Dorian shook his head, and made himself comfortable, allowing Cullen to do as he would. Glancing around, he spied the basket of food, and scooped it from the floor to the bed to investigate the contents. After a few minutes, he heard Cassandra's voice raised in shock, shushing Cole, and he chuckled at her embarrassed tone. He heard Varric teasing her, and their voices faded into the distance together.

Cullen strode back to his side, completely unaffected by his nudity, or even the spill of seed down his thighs. Dorian eyed him hungrily, and pulled him down for a slow, leisurely kiss. Cullen straightened with a smile, stroking a hand down Dorian's cheek. He turned to the dresser, and pulled out a cloth, cleaning himself up before sitting on the bed.

“So, you said later… What was that about, earlier?” His lips curved in a wry smile as he continued. “Not the fireball, though that warrants an explanation as well, love.”

Dorian gave him a look that tried to be imperious, but as disheveled as he was, ended up as pouting. Cullen leaned over to steal a kiss, and Dorian melted against him. Cullen ended the kiss slowly, and reached into the basket for a hunk of cheese. He broke off a piece and offered it to Dorian with a raised eyebrow. Dorian reached over, and grasped Cullen's wrist, pulling his hand to his mouth. He delicately took the offered food, his lips catching for a moment on Cullen's fingertips. Cullen's gaze heated, and his scarred lip curved in a smirk.

“No distracting me, love. I asked a question,” Cullen wagged a finger at him as he sprawled on his side, bracing himself on one elbow. Dorian let his gaze travel over his lover, taking in the myriad scars, the strength of his body, the honey-gold eyes that darkened to copper under the weight of his gaze.

Dorian shook his head again, this time in disbelief. “You've no idea, do you?” he murmured, almost to himself. He leaned over and tenderly pushed Cullen's curls back from his face. Cullen searched his face curiously, and caught his hand in his own. He kissed Dorian's fingertips lightly, then twined their fingers together.

“No idea of what, exactly?”

Dorian smiled. “How beautiful you are.” He watched as his confident lover blushed at the compliment, and took pity on him. “Almost as beautiful as myself, in fact,” he teased, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Cullen grinned, cheeks still pink. “And the fireball?”

Dorian looked away, a faint flush of embarrassment staining his olive cheeks. “A side effect of the moment, that's all.”

Cullen smirked. “I seem to recall a few of those moments last night, but nothing more happened than the candles flaring.” His expression grew thoughtful. “In half the keep.”

Dorian’s expression was distinctly unamused. “Laugh if you will, but that kind of lack of control is something I haven't experienced since I was a youth. It's embarrassing.”

Cullen rolled towards his lover, pinning him gently. “I'll take it as a compliment, love,” he said softly, leaning down for a gentle kiss. “For future reference however, what caused it?”

Dorian shrugged, reaching past his lover and selecting a piece of fruit “Hunger.”

“Wait, you're saying that if we'd had breakfast, that wouldn't have happened?” Cullen asked, incredulous. He shook his head, and scooped up one of the pastries he'd purloined from the cook. He held it out to Dorian, teasing him by holding it just out of reach of his lips.

“What can I say, when one is hungry, it is easier to become distracted. And sex will do that to you, it's distracting,” Dorian smirked, stroking a hand down Cullen's cheek. Cullen sank into the touch, eyes sliding shut, and Dorian snatched the pastry with a triumphant grin.

“Greedy,” Cullen remarked affectionately. “Very well, I'll just keep this to myself.”

He held a small jar, but his hand covered the label. Dorian refused to be baited however, and simply nibbled away on the pastry, sensuously licking his fingers when done. Cullen captured his hand, and sucked his fingers into his mouth, giving him a hooded glance. Dorian groaned softly, his eyes roving over his lover, noting he was half hard again.

“You're insatiable, Amatus,” Dorian chuckled. “But unless we want a repeat of the fire, I need further sustenance.”

“Close your eyes, beloved,” Cullen instructed, his voice low and husky. Dorian's eyes darkened at his tone, and he let his eyes fall shut. He heard Cullen rummaging in the basket, and thought about looking, but Cullen was apparently ahead of him. “No peeking, Dorian, that's cheating. You would think you would know better, cheating doesn't help you in chess either.”

Dorian somehow managed to look indignant with his eyes shut. “Why, I never-”

“Win,” Cullen teased. “Yes, I'm aware.” He brushed something cool against Dorian's lips, and murmured softly, “Open… please?” Dorian flicked his tongue out tentatively, and moaned softly at the sweet taste of fruit Cullen held. He ate slowly, in little bites, licking the juice from his lips and Cullen's fingers as he went. With his eyes shut, he could hear Cullen's breathing as it came faster, and Dorian hummed softly in pleasure at the image his mind presented of his lover, chest heaving as he panted. He felt his cock stir, swelling slightly at the image, and from Cullen's low groan, he'd noticed as well. “Another?” Cullen asked, his voice gone slightly hoarse.

Dorian turned toward his voice, and deliberately opened his mouth in a wide O. Cullen growled at the sight, and ran his thumb over Dorian's lower lip, then pressed it suddenly into his mouth. Dorian moaned and sucked on his thumb, rolling his tongue over it and grazing it with his teeth. Cullen pulled his hand away, and suddenly his mouth was on Dorian's, hot and demanding. Dorian gave in to the kiss, fisting his hands in Cullen's hair as he pulled him closer. He felt Cullen's shaft against his hip, and moaned softly as he rolled his hips into his lover's. Cullen eventually ended the kiss, both gasping for air. He rested his forehead against his lover's, eyes closed.

“You said you needed more food?” he reminded roughly. Dorian's blue-grey eyes opened, watching Cullen from a breath away.

“Splendid idea, Commander,” he replied softly, his voice low. “I certainly seem to have worked up an appetite.” Cullen let out a low whimper, and he dropped his head onto Dorian's shoulder. He took a shuddering breath, and laid a tender kiss to Dorian's neck.

“Food, right.” He sat back, and offered a slice of bread smeared with berry jam, then opened the bottle of small cider. He took a swig, letting the sweet-tart flavour of apples and spices linger on his tongue. He offered it to Dorian, who had devoured the bread. He watched in amusement when he first made a face at the cider, then shrugged and took another drink.

“A particular reason you Fereldens forget to let cider ferment?” Dorian asked teasingly.

“It wasn't forgotten, it's simply convenient when one still has work to do.”

“Ugh, don't remind me,” Dorian groaned, falling back on the pillow. Cullen chuckled, and offered another piece of cheese. Dorian reached into the basket and pulled out a small bunch of grapes, and began feeding them to Cullen one by one. Cullen nipped at his fingers, a playful glint in his eyes. Dorian laughed and retaliated by throwing the next one at him. Cullen caught it deftly, then tossed it into the air, catching it in his mouth. They traded bites of food and lazy caresses, until Dorian held up his hands in surrender. “No more, Amatus, I'll burst.”

Cullen grinned, but held up one last berry. “One more, love?” Dorian rolled his eyes, but reached for it all the same. Cullen drew back though, shaking his head. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

Dorian shivered at Cullen's tone, and dutifully closed his eyes, and waited. Soon enough he felt the berry pressed to his lips, but now it was coated with… something. He tentatively licked his lips, and moaned sensuously at the decadently rich chocolate. He parted his lips, and Cullen fed him the berry, the chocolate and juice dripping down his chin, until suddenly Cullen's mouth was on his, tongue thrusting.

Dorian fell back onto the pillows, and pulled Cullen down with him, never breaking the kiss. He wrapped his arms around Cullen's waist, pulling him to nestle between his thighs. Dorian moaned softly against his lips as their cocks brushed together, neither at more than half-mast, but swelling further with each kiss and grind. Cullen rolled his hips, and Dorian broke the kiss with a gasp.

“The oil, Amatus, now!” he demanded, breathless.

Cullen leaned back and smirked at him, then reached into the basket, where he'd deposited it for safekeeping. He slicked his fingers thoroughly, and reached down to prepare his lover. Dorian was still loose from the previous night, and Cullen was able to press two fingers into his heat immediately.

“Dorian.. sweet Maker! You're nearly ready for me now,” Cullen groaned.

“Nothing nearly about it. Go slow,” Dorian ordered, rocking down onto Cullen's fingers, his pupils blown wide.

“Beloved, two isn't enough, I don't want to hurt you.” Cullen pulled back, teasing Dorian's entrance, then added a third finger. Dorian's body resisted a moment, and Cullen slowed his movements, leaning down and tonguing at a pierced nipple. Dorian moaned and thrashed under his ministrations, trying to drive himself onto Cullen's hand. Cullen stroked a hand down his cheek, hushing him, gentling the frantic motion. “Easy, love…”

“Dammitall Cullen, I don't _want_  easy right now!” Dorian growled. He pushed Cullen back on his haunches, then hooked his hands behind his knees, pulling them to his chest. Cullen moaned at the sight, his lover exposed and asking to be taken, his rim pink from the previous night's passion.

“Dorian,” Cullen breathed, trying to hold himself back.

“Cullen, please Amatus,” Dorian begged, driving himself onto Cullen's fingers, his cock twitching and leaking. He let go of one leg only to drape it over Cullen's shoulder, and palmed his shaft, trembling as he ran his thumb over the slit. He pressed his thumb to Cullen's lips, and Cullen opened for him, groaning at the musky salt of his seed. A shudder ran through the Commander, and he growled, withdrawing his fingers and lining up his cock with Dorian's entrance.

“Hands on the headboard, Dorian,” Cullen commanded, and Dorian hastened to comply. Cullen tossed his other leg over his shoulder, and with one achingly slow thrust, sank to the hilt in Dorian's body. Dorian moaned, squirming underneath him, but Cullen had him thoroughly pinned, his movement limited.

“Fasta vass, Cullen, move faster!"

“I don't believe you're in any position to be making demands…” Cullen pointed out, smirking slightly.

Dorian deliberately clenched, and Cullen moaned at the sensation. “I'd say I'm in the perfect position to be making demands,” he retorted.

Cullen drew back, so slowly, his cock dragging on every inch of Dorian. He pulled back until just the tip was inside Dorian's body, the head catching and pulling on his rim. He tugged slightly, teasing and stretching him, and Dorian writhed underneath him. He thrust back in just as slowly, brushing over the bundle of nerves inside his lover, who cried out and trembled at the sensation. Cullen played this teasing game over and again, driving Dorian mad with the deliberate slide, until Dorian was pleading in a steady stream of Tevene. Cullen chuckled darkly, and leaned down to flick at a nipple with his tongue, tugging on the ring piercing it.

“Amatus, please!” Dorian groaned.

“Please what, precisely?” Cullen asked softly, his voice low and husky.

“Cullen, move faster, harder, anything, _please_ Cullen, I may go mad if you don't!” Dorian panted, a light sheen of sweat breaking out over his body.

“Hmmmm,” Cullen purred. “And what does the evil Tevinter mage look like, when he goes mad with lust?”

“ _Festis bei umo canavarum!_ ” Dorian moaned, his legs shaking where they rested on Cullen's shoulders. Cullen gave a long, low chuckle at Dorian's words, and gave a single hard and fast thrust before resuming his methodical pace. “CULLEN!” Dorian shouted, and the candelabra beside the bed flared to life with such vigour that half the length of each candle liquefied immediately. Cullen's eyes widened, his pulse speeding up with the touch of danger. Dorian seemed to sense something had changed in that moment, and shook his head to clear his lust fogged-mind. “Amatus? Are you quite alright?”

Cullen looked down at him for a moment, his breathing harsh and panting, then gave a feral smile. “Never better,” he growled, then proceeded to slam into his lover, driving him upward on the bed with the force of his thrusts. Dorian’s shocked cry echoed against the high ceiling, followed swiftly by his hands coming off the headboard and raking down Cullen's back. Cullen's hips gave an uncontrolled buck into Dorian as his nails reopened the marks from the night before, and he growled again. “I told you to keep your hands there, didn't I? We'll have to figure something else out. Do I need to tie you up?”

Dorian whimpered, using his muscular arms to drive his body onto Cullen's shaft with each stroke, his own cock leaking steadily. “Please, Amatus, don't stop!” he pleaded, clutching at his lover.

“Give me your hands, Dorian. Now.” Cullen took the offered hands, and pinned his wrists to the mattress above Dorian's head.

 _“Maker, yes...”_ Dorian breathed, his arousal climbing ever higher as his lover shifted to hold his wrists with one hand, the other snaking between their bodies to grasp Dorian's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Cullen shifted his hips slightly, then drove into him again, pulling a tumble of incoherent Tevene from his lips. Cullen couldn't identify more than one word in ten, but what he heard was approving. He could feel himself approaching the brink, and sped up his stroking to take Dorian over the edge with him.

Dorian rocked with each thrust, lost in a fog of pleasure. _“Maker yes, fuck me, hnng! Harder, Amatus, I won't break, harder! I'm yours, take me, mark me, oh please yesYES **YES**! Ahhh!”_ Dorian shouted his passion, unaware he'd slipped completely to Tevene as he praised his lover. He felt Cullen release his wrists, instead twining their fingers together as they climbed together.

Dorian felt Cullen's cock begin to pulse, and brought his free hand to the nape of his neck, dragging him down for a rough kiss, their tongues dueling for supremacy. He could feel his magic tingling under his skin, and knew the candles weren't going to survive. Dorian threw his head back as his climax overwhelmed him, screaming Cullen's name, hearing Cullen's roar as he followed Dorian over a moment later. Dorian thrust his hand into the air, a flare of heat and light bursting upward from his hand as Cullen collapsed against him.

They lay together a moment, breathing heavily, when Dorian's nose twitched. He blearily opened his eyes, and immediately pushed at Cullen urgently.

“Fuck! Cullen, the water pitcher!” Cullen reacted instantly to Dorian's panicked tone, though he staggered as he rolled and fell off the bed to his feet. He scooped up the pitcher and spun to where Dorian pointed, the top edge of a wall tapestry burning merrily. Cullen threw the pitcher overhand, smashing it against the stone just above the flames, just as Dorian sent a bolt of ice to the flames directly. Between the two, the fire was vanquished. As was the tapestry, which sagged pathetically for a moment before tearing and tumbling to the floor.

Cullen collapsed back on the bed next to Dorian, and pulled him into his arms. “I suppose that answered my question,” he murmured softly, his voice husky and amused.

Dorian eyed him askance for a moment before giving in with a soft smile. “Which question was that, Amatus?”

Cullen laid a tender, gentle kiss to his temple, and Dorian felt his lips curve in the delightfully crooked smile. “Now I know what the evil Tevinter mage looks like when he goes mad with lust!” he teased.

“Fasta vass!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tevene translation
> 
> Kaffas = shit  
> Fasta vass = expletive  
> Amatus = term of endearment  
> Festis bei umo canavarum = you will be the death of me

**Author's Note:**

> Amatus = term of endearment  
> Kaffas = shit  
> Fasta vass = a curse/profanity
> 
> Constructive criticisms and comments are more than welcome!


End file.
